


You Shook Me All Night Long

by theladyscribe



Series: Roadtripping [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Humor, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:23:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyscribe/pseuds/theladyscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam takes in the scene, blinking at the sight of Jo lying among the bedsheets, her chest heaving with each pounding breath and her hair falling out of its trappings, and Dean knows what it must look like to his brother, even though nothing happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Shook Me All Night Long

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the AC/DC song of the same name.

After almost a month on the road together, Dean has pretty much stopped paying attention to Jo when she comes out of the bathroom. But tonight, he notices a couple things out of the corner of his eye while he’s surfing the internet. The first thing he notices is that she’s braided her hair back and it looks nice. The second thing he notices is that she’s wearing a white tank top and a pair of black shorts with AC/DC emblazoned across the front. He’s been missing those boxers for about three weeks now.

“What?” she says, and he realizes he’s staring slack-jawed at her.

“Where’d you get those shorts?” he asks.

“Found them,” she answers, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Oh yeah? Where’d you find them?” He stands and takes a step toward her.

She shrugs and turns away from him, making a big show of folding down the blankets on the bed. “I might have found them when I was doing laundry the first week I rode out with you guys. You know, the night you and Sam were chasing a chupacabra outside Santa Fe,” she says pointedly.

“Oh.” He winces a little. That _was_ a pretty shitty thing to do, leaving her with laundry duty while they took out the goat-sucker, he’ll admit. But he thought that her more-painful-than-necessary medical assistance afterward had been his punishment for leaving her behind. Apparently he was wrong. He cocks his head. “You stole my favorite pair of shorts?”

She blinks at him. “I didn’t know they were your favorite. But yes, I did. And no, you can’t have them back.”

“You wanna bet?” Dean mutters. “I’ll get them back.”

She raises an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “And what are you going to do, Dean? Pull them off me?”

He considers her challenge for a moment and then says, “Yes,” before knocking her over and snaking his hands down to the waistband of the shorts.

“That tickles!” Jo says, squirming a little as his hands brush against her sides. She curls into herself reflexively, leaving only one side of her stomach exposed. Dean pauses for a moment and grins. After all these weeks, she’s finally revealed a new way to torture her, and he immediately begins to implement the new-found knowledge, tickling her mercilessly. “Dean, stop!” she gasps as his fingers dance across the small of her back. She arches away from him, trying to escape, even though he has hold of her waist now.

“Give me back my shorts,” he demands, letting up momentarily.

“Never!” she wheezes, clutching at her sides.

“Fine then,” and he returns to his ministrations.

“Stop! Stop!” she begs again, but he is relentless. And then Jo’s foot connects with Dean’s stomach.

He lands on the floor with an “Oof” and a shower of scratchy hotel bedding.

Jo cranes her neck over the bed to look at him. “I am victorious,” she declares with a wide smile.

Dean smiles back and grabs her arms, pulling her (and more of the bedding) to the floor. “I will never surrender,” he says, and he once again attacks her sides with his fingers. Jo shrieks in his ear as his fingers graze the skin just below her armpit, and he’s beginning to wonder if his favorite pair of boxers is really worth going deaf when he realizes the deadbolt is being unlocked. “Shit, Sammy’s back from the library,” he says, letting go of Jo immediately and scrambling to his feet just as the door opens.

Sam takes in the scene, blinking at the sight of Jo lying among the bedsheets, her chest heaving with each pounding breath and her hair falling out of its trappings, and Dean knows what it must look like to his brother, even though nothing happened. Well, except a tickle fight.

“Hi, Sam,” Jo rasps, breaking the silence that has befallen them. She grabs Dean’s wrist, and he nearly falls over before righting himself and shifting his weight to help her up. She bites her lip, embarrassed. “We were just, uh—”

“Turning down the covers,” Dean supplies.

Sam nods slowly. “I can see that,” he says, his eyes moving slowly from one to the other. “Well, I just stopped by to pick up Dad’s journal. I think I’ve figured out what we’re dealing with.” He picks up the book off the table and heads back for the door. “I’ll let you two get back to your, uh, cover turning,” he says with a slight smirk and, Dean notices, pink-tinged ears. “See you in a couple hours.” He shuts the door in a rush.

“Well,” Jo says, “that was awkward.”

Dean coughs, thinking that “awkward” doesn’t quite cover it. Mortifying would be nearer the mark, to have your brother come in and assume the worst like that, especially when nothing actually happened. He turns to Jo. “You gonna give me my shorts back now?” he asks hopefully.

She snorts. “Hell no. Not after that.”

“Not after what?”

“Not after _that_.” She waves her hand in the vague direction of the door. “It’s what you get for making your brother think that we were _turning down the covers_. Who even says that, anyway?”

“Come on, Jo,” he says, and he cringes slightly at the whine in his voice. “They’re my favorite pair.”

She sighs. “Oh all right.” He grins and moves toward her, hand out and ready to receive them. “But not right now,” she says quickly. “Don’t worry, you’ll get them back,” she assures him. She smiles evilly. “Eventually.”


End file.
